


Bloom

by quiznakeries



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Space Ark AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiznakeries/pseuds/quiznakeries
Summary: “Where are we?” Shiro asks, looking out over the seemingly endless field of flowers.“It sure isn’t Kerberos.” Keith replies, and there’s excitement in his voice, wonder.—-Space ark AU where some technological testing goes wrong and sheith end up on a distant planet.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Kicking off this challenge with some fluffety fluff, flowers and moony smiles all around!

**Bloom**

_ Prompt Nr 1: Getting lost somewhere _

  
  
  
  


“Hold her steady, Keith!”

Every light source in the cockpit flashes and blinks an angry red, pulses with the sound of the alarm blaring. Shiro can’t for the life of him understand what good the warning system is supposed to do when it makes it so  _ damn _ difficult to focus.

“I’m  _ trying _ !” 

The left engine overheated and blew out when they made the wormhole jump, and sent them hurtling through a nebula where the gas reacted with the red hot metal and the whole exhaust chamber pulled in on itself. They spun through space, leaving a deranged streamer of smoke behind. And they would have kept spinning, out of control at unbeknownst speed towards heaven knows, if they hadn’t been launched straight into a small planets orbit, straight on through an ozone layer not unlike the one on earth.

Now, instead of swirling through open space like liquid through a silly straw, Shiro can’t do anything but watch as Keith tries to maneuver what is basically a badly folded paper airplane falling towards the surface of an alien planet. An alien planet where, should they survive this, they have zero access to information because the entire control panel is fried.

—

  
  


_ Shiro was changing the blade on the circular saw, when the sliding door behind him hissed as it opened. He looked over his shoulder to greet his boss and mentor, master mechanic Sam Holt.  _

_ “Hey, how was-“ he began to ask, but paused as he spotted the other person next to Sam. “- your meeting?” _

_ It was odd, because aside from the monthly inspections and visits from Sam’s wife and children, people didn’t get access to their workshop. Their work with high risk fuels and off ark-vessels was too dangerous to have civilians come and go. It was one of the reasons Shiro had been drawn to work there in the first place. _

_ The kid looked vaguely familiar to Shiro, but it was hard to tell when the guy kept his head low, shaggy black bangs falling over his face. His arms were crossed over his chest, and the discomfort radiated off him in heavy waves.  _

_ “About that.” Sam turned to the boy, and gestures for him to step forward. “I have won us a new star apprentice!” _

_ Shiro didn’t want to seem rude, so he tried not to look too surprised. But it was the first he’d heard of Sam looking for a new apprentice. Shiro himself only finished his training and received his license ten months ago. It was very soon for his boss to take on another. _

_ It struck him as strange, is all. _

_ But that didn’t stop him from wiping the grease off his hands with the stained piece of cloth he carried around, walk over, and greet his new colleague. _

_ The first thing he noticed once the boy took his hand to Shake, was the startling color of his eyes. Deep indigo, stained with what was almost a purple shade. It reminded him of some of the nebulas he’s seen, looking out the windows of the space ark where he’s spent the entirety of his life. _

_ The second thing, was how those eyes fell upon the prosthetic holding his bony hand in a firm grip. Shiro was used to people staring, it was nothing new. What was different was the spark of interest, the fascination in this boy’s eyes as he inspected the tech. Shiro knew that look. _

_ “Shiro,” Sam crossed his hands behind his back and looked the two of them over, a small smile on his face. “- this is Keith.” _

_ — _

  
  


“Shiro? Shiro are you alright?  _ Shiro _ .” 

He comes to, disorientated and with a terrible ringing in his ears. Otherwise, he seems to be okay. 

“Keith?”

He opens his eyes to see Keith hovering above him, a soft pink sky above. Keith sighs in relief, brushing careful fingers on a tender spot on Shiro’s head.

“The landing got rough, you hit your head.” 

Shiro can’t remember, but clearly, Keith handled it. He looks around them, and spots the ship a few yard away, smoke gushing from the back. Keith must’ve carried him.

Where the ship is landed on a rocky foundation, he finds himself pillowed in low growing wildflowers. They grow dense, covering the ground below entirely. Shiro reaches to pick one, cupping it gently in his hand. It’s beautiful, about as big as his palm with round, velvety petals. It’s black, with a crisp white middle. The stem and leaves are a dark violet. The smell is a little citrusy, warm and tangy. It’s the most splendid thing he’s ever experienced.

Thanks to working for Sam Holt, Shiro’s had the opportunity to visit most of the Ark's biggest greenhouse. Even many of the restricted sections, where Colleen Holt and her team grows and studies non nutritional or medicinal plant life from earth, like various flowers. It’s incredible, and the air is always so crisp and fresh. 

But it’s got nothing on this, flowers grown not in a pot but in the ground, spreading and living in its own right. It’s a lot to take in.

No human has set foot on bearing, non-manufactured soil in over a hundred years.

And now, here they are.

“Where are we?” He asks, looking out over the seemingly endless field of flowers.

“It sure isn’t Kerberos.” Keith replies, and there’s excitement in his voice, wonder. 

They knew wormhole technology was incredibly risky, but in the past year they’ve successfully sent multiple probes across the Milky Way. They were supposed to be taken to one of Pluto’s moons, close enough to make it back to the Ark on their own. But wherever this is, isn’t like anything they’ve ever found in their galaxy.

They could be anywhere. Anywhere in the universe.

“What are the odds we land on a planet with breathable air and gravity?” He finds it ridiculous, it shouldn’t even be possible. Maybe he didn’t wake up from the landing yet after all?

Keith chuckles, lying down next to Shiro on the bed of alien flowers. 

“I guess we just weren’t supposed to die today.”

“Guess not.” Shiro grins up at the sky, hands clasped on his stomach. If this is a dream, he’s going to make the most of it.

They lie in silence for a few minutes, just basking in the light from an unknown sun and soaking in the sensations no one they know has ever felt.

It’s not very warm, the open air starting to bite at his exposed ears and cheeks, but his suit is nice temperature controlled. He starts to wonder, does this planet have seasons? Weather changes, day and night such as earth? Will they find other life forms here?

“The sky on earth appeared blue, didn’t it?” He throws the question out there, mostly to stop his own mind from absolutely overflowing.

“In the daytime, it was.” Keith’s voice is soft and soothing, like he’s reading a story. Shiro wonders if he knows that Shiro knows the answer and just wishes to hear him talk, or not. “But at sunrise and sundown, the colors would change. Pink and purple, orange, red.”

“And at night?” Shiro turns his head, watches Keith’s handsome profile. With the pink sky reflecting in his eyes, they appear violet. A fond smile curls Keith’s lips.

“You already know.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Keith gives a half sigh, but when he speaks again he’s back with that dreamy voice.

“It’d be dark blue, sometimes black.” Keith picks a flower, and holds it a few inches from his face. He traces the round edge of the petals with his fingertips, and Shiro can’t look away. “In some parts of the world, in the summer, the sun would never set. And in the winters, it would never rise.”

That last part, Shiro didn’t know. He can’t imagine, trying to sleep through the night when it’s light as day outside. On the Ark, the artificial daylight goes out at nine thirty PM, and comes back on at seven AM. It’s all he’s ever known, lived his life according to the light panels on the ceiling.

Perhaps he never will again.

\--

  
  


_ “You ready for this?” Shiro asked over the com, eyes glued on the metal box behind the glass. It was Keith’s first time alone in the simulator, and Shiro knew how exciting that was. And he trusted Keith’s ability, he’d long since proven to be a natural behind the panel.  _

_ Keith excelled in all his tasks, really, and Shiro had trouble seeing why the regulations board had decided he needed to be placed under supervised care in order to function as an adult. He functioned just fine. At that point, Keith had been with them for two years already, and still neither he nor Sam had told Shiro what happened that day, what happened before that to land Keith there in the workshop.  _

_ He was dying to know, but had decided not to pry. Once Keith was ready, Shiro was sure he’d tell him the story. _

_ “As I’ll ever be.” Keith’s voice carried through the static, and Shiro could almost see the determined expression, the little smirk on Keith’s lips as he held the controls and waited. _

_ “No time to waste, then.” Shiro flipped the switch, entered the last command. “We have takeoff in three, two…” _

—

  
  


“Holy-“ 

Shiro doesn’t finish his sentence, there’s no point. He knows Keith understands exactly what he means to say.

They’ve been walking for a while, because it’s getting colder and they need to find some sort of shelter. After a while, they spotted smoke, smoke that wasn’t their burning ship, and followed it’s source. It lead them to a stone wall, not high enough to keep someone human sized out but more like highlighting the line. Because beyond that wall, the black carpet of flowers disappeared. In its stead there was something like moss, and a narrow dirt road leading straight into a village.

They didn’t have much time to discuss whether or not they should disturb the villagers or not, because before they could make any decisions - a carriage came bouncing down the road. It was drawn by an animal unlike anything Shiro’s even seen, tall and lean with four long legs and an unproportionally small head. There was a shout, a command of sorts, and the animal halted. The two of them stood frozen, not believing their eyes as someone came tumbling out of the carriage, and waved at them.

The person was quite human-like in figure, their skin a brilliant blue and with a pudgy build. They were wearing a mask, matching the colors of the flower field. They waved enthusiastically, calling out and gesturing for them to come closer.

They looked at each other, briefly, and jumped over the wall.

The villager invited them into the carriage, blabbering excitedly behind their mask. Shiro was glad at least this person had their back turned to them as they steered the carriage, because if he looked anything like Keith did, it was obvious they were both shocked beyond words.

Now, a few minutes sharing this friendly being’s vehicle, they’re standing in a town square, and Shiro is starting to wonder just when his brain is going to fry just like their ship did. 

The pudgy body type seems to be a basic genetic trait for the species, but the people bustling about the heavily decorated square vary a lot in width and height. And there are so, so many of them. Most dressed in black and white, with highlights of bright pink and violet. Everywhere, there are portrayals and designs of the flowers they’ve seen, on banners and props and clothing, everywhere. It’s some sort of festival, and they’ve landed right in the middle of it.

The driver of the carriage slaps them both on the back, cackling wildly and disappearing into a group of villagers dancing their way down the path.

“Do you think they even understand we don’t belong?” Keith asks, slack jawed and wide eyed as he scans their surroundings.

“I don’t even think they notice we’re here.” 

Keith turns to look at him, awe sparkling in those fantastic eyes, and a sly grin slowly spreading across his face. He reaches for Shiro’s hand, and Shiro blinks dumbly as he tries to understand what’s happening, what switch’s flipped in Keith’s head.

“No time to waste, then.”

He pulls Shiro along, heading to the center of the square where there’s a round stage set up. On it, two dancers wearing masks much like the person from before, are dancing. It’s beautiful, a graceful give and take wrapped in tunes of multiple flutes and drums. Their purple robes sway and rivulet as they move about the stage, and it’s absolutely mesmerizing. 

When the act ends, they do their best to join in on the hollers of encouragement from the crowd, a chant of words where humans would take to applause.

Shiro is trying very hard not to think about how Keith has yet to let go of his hand.

\---

  
  


_ Keith had just turned eighteen, when Sam first brought him in. By the time he was ready for his licence to work alone, and to pilot their pods and ships, he was twenty three. It’d taken him a year less than it did for Shiro, and Shiro was never going to live it down. _

_ “Guess you’re just not as good as me, old timer.” Keith flashed him a teasing smile over the edge of the power drill. Shiro stuck his tongue out in response, hands too busy to flip him off. _

_ “Keep making fun of the disabled, Keith. Rub it in.” _

_ “Yeah like a highly advanced, super strong tech arm is a disadvantage in your line of work.” _

_ Shiro couldn’t argue, Keith had a point. The arm had served him well ever since he got it, and it was way practical to have the added power and strength with him at all times. Still, it was a part of him that would always be sure to make him different. _

_ They kept working in silence. They couldn’t hear each other over the drill if they tried, anyway. _

_ “So what are we doing for your birthday?” Keith asked once the machine powered down. _

_ Shiro felt stupid for reading so much into it, but part of him loved how Keith assumed they’d spend his birthday together. Not that it was anything new, they’d hung out almost every day for five years. It was just, there had been some shifts in the foundation of their relationship. At least, there had been on Shiro’s part. Lately, he couldn’t make Keith laugh often enough. Listen to him talk. Watch him move. _

_ It was terribly inappropriate, but Shiro couldn’t help himself. Keith was such a big part of his life, and he’d grown into the most astonishing, beautiful man Shiro’s ever met.  _

_ He just wasn’t sure what to do with it, yet. _

_ \-- _

  
  


The festivities are magical, with the chatter and the music, the smells and the lights. It’s more than enough to let the two of them forget they’re actually stranded on a foreign planet lord knows how far away from home, at least for now.

Keith keeps a firm grip on Shiro’s hand, dragging him along to look at performers, watch the people dance and sing. Somehow, guided by the undercurrent of moving bodies, they end up on a market street. It’s packed with people, and loud, vendors trying to make themselves heard over the bustling crowd. 

Everywhere, there are food vendors, with their signs adorned with designs of those flowers. Someone’s carriying jars of black goop, like jam or pickles of some sort. Next to them, another sells cups filled to the brim with steaming, hot pink chunks. The entire market smells sweet and citrusy, and everything looks amazing.

They stop to gawk at a vendor dishing out skewers of pink, knobby lumps drenched in warm jelly. They come to the conclusion it must be the roots from the flowers that are the main event.

The person behind the counter catches them watching, and holds out a skewer. Hopelessly, they try to communicate their lack of currency, patting their imaginary pockets and shaking heads, trying to look sorry. The vendor all but shoves the skewer into Keith’s free hand anyway, and waves them off with a kind, wide smile.

They try to thank them best they can.

The roots are chewy and sweet, with a floral flavor Shiro really likes. It’s so unlike anything he’s ever had before.

At some point, the same thing happens again, and Keith gets a tall mug of a cold, milky grey beverage handed to him with nothing but a smile.the taste of it is mild, but it’s a lot like sweet lemon, with a kind of roasted and nutty aftertaste.

Keith can’t get enough of it, barely able to contain himself from chugging the entire thing on the first sip. Shiro laughs, and playfully attempts to take the mug from Keith. Keith, for the first time in at least an hour, drops Shiro’s hand and darts off with the mug clutched to his chest, looking back to make sure Shiro follows.

He’s fast, though, and agile. Keith weaves through the crowd much easier than Shiro with his bulky build and much less grace. He doesn’t catch up with Keith until the street forks out and the crowd dissolves. The festivities continue down the road to the left, but Shiro spots Keith disappearing down the more narrow, dimly lit path to the right. 

In the midst of all the bright lights and colors of the festival, Shiro didn’t notice the sun setting. It only occurs to him now, as he sees Keith skip onto a wooden bridge a little bit ahead of him, backdropped by a dark, purple sky. 

He’s beautiful, so positively ethereal Shiro has to stop in his tracks, and just look at him for a second.

Keith stands and waits for him, leans over the railing to watch the river below. He looks so at peace, so free. 

Shiro follows his example, arms crossed over the railing. He gets stuck, watching the river flow. The rippling water is incredible, so full of life. Nothing like anything they’ve ever had on the Ark. It’s massive, and powerful, yet still so soothing to look at. 

“I can’t believe we’re here.” He means it in so many ways, his voice is almost trembling when he speaks the words. Next to him, Keith scoots closer, and Shiro curses his silly heart for soaring at the proximity. He can’t feel Keith’s body heat through his suit, but he doesn’t need to. He can imagine, with all the times Keith has fallen asleep with his head in Shiro’s shoulder during movie nights, every celebratory embrace they’ve shared when they’ve passed an obstacle at work. All of that Shiro has let himself keep, stored the warmth of Keith’s presence deep within himself to access when he needs support.

He’s been in love for so long now.

“Me neither.” Keith exhales, a happy sigh. He holds the cup out to Shiro. “Want the last of this?”

Shiro snorts. “After you literally ran away to keep it to yourself?”

He turns to look at Keith, and finds his face much closer than he anticipated. He prays the heat on his cheeks doesn’t show in the low light.

Keith’s smile is soft, and fond.

“I knew you’d find me.”

God, he hopes he isn’t reading this wrong. Keith is looking at him with stars in his eyes and he’s so, so close. His heart has never beaten so hard.

“I’ll always find you.” He manages, after a long pause. Keith’s smile gets a little wider, and Shiro’s breath hitches because Keith is leaning in to rest his forehead on Shiro’s.

“I know.” He tilts his chin, and places a soft, lingering kiss on Shiro’s lips. “And I’m holding you to that.”

The cup goes flying into the river, as Shiro commits a new, more intimate embrace to his memory. 

There’s no telling what’s ahead of them now, if they’ll ever be rescued and how low it will take until then. But Shiro’s sure, wherever the two of them are, they’ll make due.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus: Sam finds them after two weeks, tumbling out of his pod looking like a baby bird. Big eyes, shaggy hair, bad posture, screaming a lot. Meanwhile sheith are well fed, rested, and stupid in love.  
> They have to carry the scientist back to the pod and get him out before his brain overloads, and spend the rest of their lives telling Sam he got ill and dreamt it all. Their experience lives on only as a fairytale for generations, and the sweet people with their fields of blooming goodness is left alone.


End file.
